Wednesday, January 23, 2019

The Curious Tale of the Restaurant Next Door


The Marigold restaurant recently closed its doors after fifty years of being our neighbour. It was bittersweet news as it's hard to see iconic businesses and institutions close, but on the other hand, to be honest, I was never really very fond of their style of North American Chinese food, with its dayglow pink sauces and its anatomically improbable chicken balls. Moreover, their Friday lunch buffet often caused problems as large van-loads of Marigold enthusiasts from the country, in town for a day of shopping, would clog our parking lot, either in defiance or in ignorance of our signs.

But maybe our signs needed to be larger because whenever I think of the Marigold restaurant I think of one incident in particular. This might have been fifteen years ago or so and it was a Friday in the summer. It was a reasonably busy day at the clinic when a nervous-looking looking middle-aged couple came in through the back door. The clinic is relatively long and narrow, with the parking lot out back and the front facing a busy street, so it was not unusual for people to try to come in that way. We generally keep the back door locked though because it can be crowded and chaotic in that part of the clinic and it's not really meant for through-traffic, but sometimes we forget. That day we forgot.

The couple walked slowly past the grooming area, and past the kennel areas full of dogs and cats, and through the treatment room with staff in scrubs scuttling about and pets on stainless steel tables and various machines going "ping". They walked past all of this and made their way to the reception counter at the front of the clinic. There they stopped and the man smiled shyly at the receptionist, cleared his throat and quietly asked a question. He asked, "Is this the Marigold restaurant?"

I'll let that sink in for a moment.

"Is this the Marigold restaurant?"

The most astonishing part isn't that they would walk into Birchwood thinking it was the Marigold. The back of the clinic and the back of the restaurant look pretty similar I suppose. And sometimes your brain just blanks out signs. I get that. It's probably happened a few times before and people just giggled at their error and made a quick about-face.

And the most astonishing part isn't even that after seeing everything they just saw, and hearing everything they just heard, and smelling everything they just smelled, that they would think that this could possibly somehow still be a restaurant. That's really astonishing, but it is not, in fact, the most astonishing part. These looked like trusting, innocent and, dare I say it, unsophisticated folk.

No, the most astonishing part is that after everything they saw, heard and smelled they were still hungry and apparently still interested enough to ask that question!

The Marigold is being replaced by a funeral home, so the parking will only get worse. And I sincerely hope that it doesn't generate any funny stories.





Wednesday, January 9, 2019

Everything You Wanted To Know About Euthanasia But Were Afraid To Ask


I imagine that many people didn't make it past the title, and that's ok. This post is not intended for everyone, but the last post reminded me that I wanted to have something on the record regarding this. It's a heartbreaking subject, but it's an important one. I understand that it could be too disturbing or emotional for some readers, and that others would just rather not know. Have no fear - if you're in either category you can happily skip this post and look forward to the next one instead (which I promise will be on a light topic).

There is a general rule that for every person who asks a question, there are ten others who have the same question but did not want to ask. I have no idea where this little bit of folk wisdom came from, but it strikes me as roughly true for many situations other than euthanasia. When it comes to euthanasia however, because of the intense emotions involved, I think the ratio is closer to a hundred to one.

Here then are the questions I have been asked:

Does it always work?
Yes, it does. It's poignant to consider that while veterinarians spend their careers trying to save lives, the one service they provide that is absolutely guaranteed to be effective is ending life.

Why do you sedate first?
Not everyone sedates their euthanasia patients first, but I almost always do. To begin with, I want to make sure that the pet is not picking up on everyone's emotions at the end. They are often very attuned to this and can become frightened, especially in a vet office. Secondly, especially in ill patients, finding a good vein for the euthanasia injection is not always that quick. Sedation can go under the skin, but euthanasia needs to be in a solid and reliable vein. I don't want the patient to become anxious if we're taking a few moments to secure a good vein, nor do I want them to move while we're injecting the euthanasia solution.

How fast is sedation?
It varies quite a bit, but usually ten minutes or so. We wait until they are woozy and unaware. Some individuals will become fully unconscious with the sedation alone.

How does the euthanasia drug work?
We use an overdose of an injectable anesthetic. It's in the barbituate class, therefore similar to some sleeping pills or the anesthetic you might have had to get your wisdom teeth out a few decades back (safer drugs are used now, you'll be pleased to hear). We use such a high dose that all parts of the brain fall asleep - first the parts that keep a patient conscious and thinking, and then the parts that control breathing and the heart beat. Because it is an anesthetic the sensation is like that of falling rapidly asleep.

And how fast is this?
Very fast. Once we get a vein it can go very quickly. Depending on the size of the patient it may take a few seconds to inject the entire dose, but they are always completely unconscious before the injection is even done, and often have stopped breathing as well.

Why do you put alcohol on the vein?
I hadn't considered how this looked until a client asked, "Why are you sterilizing that when he's going to be dead in a minute anyway?" Good question, but I'm not sterilizing it. Alcohol helps make the vein stand out better.

Are there ever any bad reactions?
The great majority of the time everything goes smoothly. The sedation we use can sometimes briefly sting a little as it goes in, but very soon after they start to feel good. And on the odd occasion while the sedation is kicking in the pet can seem disoriented, but this passes quickly. Bad reactions to the euthanasia itself are extremely rare and usually take the form of vocalizing. This is very distressing to the owner, but the pet already has enough drug in their system that they're not really aware of what is happening, or in control of the sounds they're making. And again - it's extremely rare. They do sometimes take a couple of deep breaths at the end though, when they're already fully unconscious.

Why don't they close their eyes?
When you die all your muscles relax, including those in your eyelids. Eyelid muscles have to contract to close. Incidentally, bowel and bladder muscles can relax too, so sometimes they will release these as they die. They are of course completely unaware of this.

What happens to the body now?
The crematorium doesn't pick up every day, so in most cases the body will be kept in a dedicated freezer until they come. You are probably going in a special fridge for a short while after you die, so it's really very similar.

How do I know that the ashes I get back are from my pet?
We trust the crematorium, we know the operators well and we have all had our own pets cremated there. You are also welcome to visit the facility and even take your pet's remains there yourself.

You're not going to do experiments on him now are you?
No. The fact that I have actually been asked this more than once underlines how little some people understand about science, let alone professional ethics. Not only is the very idea repugnant, but there are honestly no useful "experiments" that can be done in this scenario.

Can I donate his body to science?
In rare instances, maybe. Every now and then there's an odd case where we might learn something from the results of an autopsy. While this is not really "donating his body to science", it's kind of the same idea. We would never do so without asking permission first though. As we often feel too awkward to ask, autopsies usually only get done when a client suggests it themselves.

Do you ever get used to having to euthanize people's pets?
No. Never. My heart breaks a little every time.

(If you have any questions of your own, please feel free to ask them in the comments section below.)